Bubbles
by Jillie Rose
Summary: Shields are no protection against yourself.
1. Chapter 1

The Bubble in my mind

People don't understand. There is a bubble around me. Invisible. Intangible. But there nonetheless. The one that shuts me away from the world, the one that keeps my heart protected, the one that preserves my sanity.

But it can't last. I know this in my heart of hearts but I can't feel it. Feelings are unreliable things. Trust them too much and you are in trouble. Don't trust them at all and you are very unhappy. Feelings didn't lead me to God – He did.

I was at a Scripture Union camp, and we were singing. I love singing. But that night I couldn't. I couldn't speak, I couldn't sing, I couldn't breathe. It wasn't worship because I didn't know who I was praising.

But He knew. And it took a really nasty, blunt girl to show me what I was doing wrong. "Are you a Christian?" she demanded. I didn't know. I thought I was, but...I really didn't know. It was time to make sure. When in doubt, ask.

So I did. I prayed and I prayed and the tears dripped down my face. But I knew. I am His and He is mine. I am bought with the blood of Christ.

Obviously, some people don't understand. My mother and father to name two. My mother thinks religion is all very well, and that she has it and that it is good, but I wonder – does she really know Christ? Would she make the decisions she did if their relationship was different? My father thinks it's a phase. I don't know – it is, I would have to say, a fairly long phase. Four and a half years I have been a Christian, and it has not been all daisies and meadows.

Bad things happen. They do, all the time. Man gets free will, man is given the choice of what to do – and generally, we screw it up. Every single one of us.

But it's ok, thankfully. We wander off, just lost without Him. At least, I know I do. Freedom is choice. So we choose who we are. Where we go. What we do.

But sometimes, we need a little nudge. We need to break down those barriers. Which is why I found myself on the floor at my last SU weekend, crying my eyes out. Crying for God. Crying for me. Crying for every bad decision, every stupid remark, everything. Crying for the fact that I couldn't feel, and hadn't been able to for so long.

I needed help. It came. That day I could stand up and say, "I'm not perfect, but I am forgiven. I am a child of God."

How amazing I find it – that we can talk to the Creator of the Universe freely. No special ritual, no special place or time. Anywhere, anytime, anyhow. On our knees. On our feet. Hands in the air, sitting quietly. God wants a chat. Is there anything you need to say?

Here's what I need to say. God, it's been a long road. There have been times I didn't know what to do. But I'm here, and I know it's thanks to you. I know I can't do this on my own. I see the proof every day. But I want to make the world better, just by being here. I want to try. Bring me out of this bubble Lord. And make me better every day.

Seek ye first the kingdom of God. And you will find it.


	2. Chapter 2

I disclaim ownership of pretty much everything. But the story is my own.

It has been a long time since I looked backwards. My wanderings about six years ago led me to write _Bubbles_, my sort of confessional piece about finding God and the road so far.

Many things have happened in these last six years. I have been sick, been well, been heartbroken, been overflowing with love. Been sad, been happy, been hopeful, been despairing. Got married. Graduated. Thought I had a plan for my life. Saw it come crashing down. Stayed happy regardless. God is very real, and very near. God is distant and untouchable.

I have been out of the bubble, inside it again; I have learned to wield it as a shield. I have learned that not everything has to be defended against, and that not everything is to be accepted.

I have learned, and I am so much older now. I look back on myself and I wish that I could share this experience with that young woman, the younger me. And I know that in another six years I will wish to do the same to this version of me. I see her, with no idea of what is to come, and I wish I could warn her not to overdo things, to marshal her strength, to take care of herself.

But time is a thief, and youth is wasted on the young. (Hark at me. I'm only 24.)

Hope is a precious gift. Of faith, and hope, and love, love will endure, but hope is what helps us endure in the here and now.

And I find that I trust. I trust God. I trust people (well, some of them). I trust that I can change the world. Even if I don't quite know how.

Last time, as they say on Avatar, I offered you this wisdom, 'Seek ye first the kingdom of God.'

I offer you this wisdom now, trials and tribulations and all kinds of heartache later:

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;

And through the rivers, they shall not overflow you.

When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned,

Nor shall the flame scorch you.

I found out that it's true the hard way. But I found out nonetheless.


End file.
